


The Price of Duty

by FaygoMayhem



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No happiness here, Poor Iggy has a hard life, Regis and Clarus go into full daddy mode, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9475070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaygoMayhem/pseuds/FaygoMayhem
Summary: No one ever said being a royal advisor would be easy, but the price young Ignis has to pay might be a little too high.Warning!Descriptions of rape/ child abuse in the second chapter; please do not read if you are uncomfortable





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic spawned as a result of watching way too much Law and Order: SVU, and I kind of hate myself for writing it. I separated it into two parts so readers could have the fluffy, almost happy beginning without the crushing depression that will come in the second half. I'm sorry for this in advance.

When Prince Noctis turns three years old, King Regis sends out a summons to the kingdom to begin testing children in academic aptitude to find the best candidate for his son’s royal advisor. It’s tradition in the kingdom that the advisor trainee come to live in palace at a young age to grow up with the royal they are assigned to in order to form strong bonds so they can trust each other completely. All children between the ages of 6 and 8 are required to take the test; the idea being that the advisor be close in age to relate to their royal but still old enough to exert a certain level of authority.

Ignis Scientia is five-going on six- when the order is passed. His parents beg and plead with the testing official to give him a chance, showing off test scores from his prep-school that tout him as a young genius. The man passes the request to the palace, and it is decreed that Ignis be allowed to test for the advisor position. Ignis isn’t quite sure when it means to be a royal advisor, but his parents seem so happy that he vows to do his best and make them proud.

The results come back, and the official is stunned. Ignis has scored higher than not only every other child in the kingdom, but of all the advisors tested in the past five decades. They test him again to make sure there wasn’t some kind of error, and then again when the second score is higher than the first. After the scores are confirmed to indeed be real Ignis is unanimously selected by the council to begin advisor training. Usually the selected child is given some time to prepare for the brutal academic regimen they will endure until their late-teens and to say goodbye to their family, but Ignis is summoned to the Citadel immediately. His parents cry tears of joy when he leaves, so happy that their son has been honored with this important position even it means they don’t get to watch him grow up.

When Ignis is presented before the King he bows like he had been taught and does his best to keep his arms and legs from trembling. The King is kind and warmly welcomes him to the palace, telling him that he hopes Ignis will be a good friend and confidant for his young son. Ignis promises not to let him down, proud of himself when his voice doesn’t stutter and he is able to speak with conviction. The King laughs and takes him to meet Noctis.

The Prince is smaller than Ignis expected and not very regal at all, though he supposes he shouldn’t expect too much from a three-year-old. His eyes light up in delight when Ignis is introduced as his new, permanent, friend and the older boy is immediately grabbed by the arm and dragged off to the space where the Prince keeps all his toys. He spends the next three hours building block towers that resemble cities so Noctis can knock them down with his various action figures, and Ignis thinks he has never before had so much fun. The King watches the two boys play with a fond smile on his face, making a mental note to praise the council for their selection.

 

_______

 

Over the next few years Ignis is tutored relentlessly on royal etiquette, protocol and service; along with advanced accelerated courses in math, science, literature and history. He learns things that are normally taught to children twice his age, and excels in everything that is brought forward. King Regis tells him one day that he is pleased with his progress and it makes Ignis’ heart swell with pride. He works even harder, spending hours at the library pouring over historical texts and studies on elemental magic. Everyone he encounters praises him on his diligence and manners, and he is always happy when he receives letters from his parents telling him how proud they are of him.

He also spends a great deal of time with his Prince, playing games of pretend and laughing like the children they are. Ignis knows there will come a time when it will be his responsibility to teach Noctis all the finer points of being a royal, and they won’t be able to just play and have fun anymore. He both dreads and looks forward to this time because though it means sacrificing his fun with Noctis, it also means that his position has been solidified and he’s passed all of his tests.

 Ignis is happy with his life, though the work is hard and the reward seems so far away. At times when he is alone in his room his heart aches with loneliness and he misses his parents. When this happens he thinks of Noctis and the way his eyes light up when he comes to play; and he thinks of the King with his warm smile and his gentle praise. This is his new family, and Ignis is proud to be a part of it.

Things change when he turns nine. The war with the empire is escalating quickly, and Ignis’ studies now include political science and military strategy. He finds himself excelling more than usual on strategy and he is even brought into meetings where his advice is listened to and taken into account. Most of the soldiers and generals take offence to being given advice from a kid, but his theories and tactics are too wise to be ignored. He makes a lot of enemies among adults who find him too cocky and assertive for his own good, though nothing more than angry glares and accusatory whispers comes of it.

Ignis is in his room one night reading reports on the empire’s latest targets when his heart stops in his chest; his hometown is on the list. He rushes into the hallway where he collides with a messenger who informs him that he has been summoned by the King. His feet feel like lead as he walks to the throne room to receive the horrible news he knows is coming. The King looks at him sadly as he formally informs Ignis that his hometown has been completely obliterated, and that there were no survivors. He expresses his condolences for the loss of his family, and Ignis bows and thanks him, though he is unable to keep the wobble out of his voice. He is stunned when the King then slowly gets off his throne and pulls him into a tight hug, and Ignis is ashamed when he cannot help but to break down and cry on his shoulder. This is behavior he should not be displaying in front of his monarch, though King Regis doesn’t seem to mind and he holds Ignis in his arms until the tears stop falling.

His lessons are canceled for the next few days and Ignis spends the time caught between grieving over his family and reflecting on the position he is in now. He no longer has a home to return to if he fails to secure his position as royal advisor, and that thought terrifies him more than anything. They had told him that if the stress was too much, he could resign and another position would be found for him within the governing district of the palace when he got older. He wonders if he even really wants the position, if it’s really worth giving up his entire life just to make sure Noctis turns into a proper ruler. He fights with himself for an entire day, making lists of the pros and cons of staying until his head throbs and he collapses onto his bed.

That evening he stirs from a fitful sleep when he hears his door creek open to reveal the small, timid form of his Prince. ‘They told me what happened when you didn’t come to play today,’ he says softly with a sniffle. Ignis beckons him into the room and he rushes inside to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m sorry the empire took away your family,’ he sniffles again and Ignis can feel tears welling up in his own eyes, though he doesn’t want to cry in front of Noctis.

‘They said you might leave if you were too sad because everything here is really hard. I don’t want you to be sad, but I don’t want you to leave either….you’re my only friend,’ the sniffles had turned to sobs at this point, and Ignis sat up to wrap Noctis in a hug, his heart hurting to see his friend in pain. He rocked them both back and forth slowly, not caring at this point that his own tears had started to fall. When they both calmed down he laid them back down, keeping the Prince in his arms and rubbing his back soothingly. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he promised Noctis, who hugged him tighter and nuzzled into his chest.

 _‘I’m not going anywhere,’_ he promised himself later as he closed his eyes again with Noctis sleeping soundly, still cradled in his arms.

_____

 

He’s treated with kid-gloves for the next few weeks. All his tutors and trainers are less harsh than usual with his lessons and he’s given more time to spend playing with Noctis. As much as he enjoys the extra free time he just wants things to go back to normal, feeling the need to prove himself worthy of the position and honor the memory of his parents.

On the day Ignis turns ten he wakes up with a lump in his throat. Normally he would be leaving to spend time at home like he did every year, and the harsh reality that it was no longer possible hit him harder than expected. He gets out of bed, willing himself not to drown in his own self-pity and walks down to the kitchens like he does every morning where he’s met with the smiling faces of his tutors, some close staff members, Noctis, and even King Regis who all jovially shout ‘ _surprise!_ ’ upon his entry. He is stunned as Noctis takes his hand and leads him to a table with a modest pile of gifts and presents him with a small box wrapped in a black ribbon. Inside is a black chain with a skull pendent in the center and Noctis beams at him proudly declaring ‘I picked it out!’

Ignis holds the box with trembling hands and tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, staring at the contents far longer than he should. Noctis’ face falls and he chokes out, ‘sorry if you don’t like it…I thought it looked cool…”. Ignis snaps back to himself and pulls his friend into a tight embrace. ‘It’s perfect,’ he says quietly and when he releases Noctis he’s met again with his bright smile. Ignis takes the necklace out of the box and fastens it around his neck, clutching the small charm tightly. Regis watches the exchange with a soft smile, happy that his son has such a good friend by his side.

A few months later Ignis is shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of the palace attendants, urging that he come to the medical ward. There’s been an attack, she explains, and Noctis has been gravely injured. Ignis feels like he’s in a dream as he walks toward the chaos of the ward. There are doctors rushing everywhere, attendants speaking to the King in hushed voices about the nature of the attack, and council members preparing official statements should the Prince not survive. He finds a chair and sits there for what feels like days until a doctor comes out to inform everyone that Noctis is alive, but comatose. Relief washes over the room and Ignis is surprised when King Regis walks over to him and pulls him into a hug. He’s not sure how to react to the ruler-turned-grieving-father, so he just returns the hug and stays with him for several minutes before the doctor returns and informs them that they can come into the room.

Regis dismisses everyone but Ignis and his bodyguard Clarus and they enter the room where Noctis is laying on his stomach sleeping. He’s paler than Ignis has ever seen him and there are bandages covering his entire back. Regis pulls a chair up close to the bed and takes Noctis’ limp hand, cradling it close to his heart. Ignis thinks it might be the saddest thing he’s ever seen as he pulls up his own chair on the other side of the bed and the three people in the room sit in silence until he can no longer force himself awake and he falls asleep curled into the chair. 

He doesn’t know or care what time it is when he wakes up in his own bed; his lessons are now a moot point if he has no Prince to advise. He curls into himself as heavy sobs rake through his body, rendering him completely immobile. He cries for the loss of his home, his family, his Prince, but most of all for his friend. When there are no tears left in him he falls back asleep where he fights dreams of explosions, daemons, and endless rivers of blood. He wakes the next morning feeling like he hasn’t slept in years and drags himself down to the hospital to sit in his uncomfortable chair until sleep claims him again, a routine he keeps for the next few weeks.

Three weeks and four days after the attack, Ignis is shaken awake again in the middle of the night, this time by Clarus. He immediately panics, thinking the worst has happened, but is filled with joy the next second when the stiff man says simply, ‘he’s awake’.  They rush back down to the med ward and into Noctis’ room where they find Regis holding his son’s hand like usual, but now the Prince’s eyes are open and his father is unabashedly weeping. Ignis walks up to Noctis and runs a hand gently through his hair, wishing he could hug him just to prove he was still with them. ‘Welcome back Noct,’ he said softly, ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’ Noctis’ lips quirk up a little in response, and Ignis thinks it’s the best smile he’ll ever see.

During his recovery Noctis is lethargic and sleeps most of the days. He doesn’t talk very often and doesn’t smile anymore, though he seems to like it when Ignis and his father are in the room with him. He now often awakes panicked from the assault of the daemons that now live in his dreams and it takes several soothing words from Ignis or his father to calm him back down. He never wants to sleep, but he can’t help it. After a while Regis has to return to the throne he abandoned for so long to look after his son, trusting Ignis to be there in his stead.

 Ignis now spends all his time in the hospital room with Noctis, often dragging in books and reports so he can continue his lessons. His tutors insist that he get back to a normal regimen now that Noctis’ survival is guaranteed, but Ignis refuses to leave his side. He reads to Noctis often, even when the boy is asleep, because his voice seems to have a calming effect that draws him quickly out of nightmares. Sometimes Noctis will stop him and ask him to explain things in greater depth, which he always does to the best of his ability, but when Noct starts asking him what the lights are that he sees behind his eyes now whenever he closes them he’s left stumped. There is no book he can find on the subject and his tutors are left just as confused as he is by the question. Never one to leave anything unanswered, he is finally able to corner King Regis as he’s leaving Noct’s room one evening to ask him as a last resort. The King looks down at him sadly and simply says, ‘It’s the light of expiring souls.’ Ignis spends the next week pondering how he’s supposed to explain to Noctis that he’s watching people die behind his eyes.

It turns out that he never has to, because the King decides to take Noctis off to Tenebrae to recover. The Oracle is there, and the hope is that she can heal off the damage done to Noctis’ spine so that he’d be able to walk again. It’s decided that the fewer people they travel with the better, and Ignis is forced to stay behind.

The months apart from his Prince are brutal. Not only have his tutors piled more work on him than ever as punishment for his obstinacy while Noctis was in the hospital, but he has no one to distract him from his bitter, crippling loneliness. His eleventh birthday rolls around without a soul to care, and Ignis decides he doesn’t really care either. He buries himself in work, often times forgoing simple things like eating and sleeping. People start telling him that he’s working too hard for someone so young and that he should take more time out for himself. Ignis ignores it all, he had almost lost Noctis and he vowed to himself that when the Prince got back he was going to be the best advisor he could possibly be.

This time he’s in the middle of a lesson when they get the news that Tenebrae is under attack. He abandons everything and rushes down to war room where they are in correspondence with the guards in charge of the safety of the royal family, not caring if he’s supposed to be there or not. There’s so much chaos in the room people hardly notice him and it’s easy to hide himself in a corner where he can clearly hear the broadcast. At first there’s nothing but explosions and static, followed by gunfire and clanging of steel. Ignis holds his breath, clutching his skull pendent and praying silently to anyone that will listen that his Prince isn’t taken from him _again._ After several hours the voice of the King breaks through the static, he and Noctis have made it out safely. Ignis can finally breathe again and his hiding place is given away when he lets out a strangled sob in the quiet room. Luckily Clarus is there to save him from any severe punishment and he’s allowed to stay until it’s confirmed that Regis and Noctis are on their way by airship, and will be back by tomorrow afternoon. Ignis returns to his room and sobs with relief until he falls asleep.

The next day is hectic as people buzz around preparing for the King’s return; there is so much damage control to be done that people don’t know where to begin. Ignis is told firmly to stay out of the way, but nothing is going to stop him from being there when Noctis returns. He squeezes himself into a small corner of the hanger where the ship is due to land any minute and is invisible to everyone but Clarus, who doesn’t seem affected by his presence. When the ship lands he waits out of site for everyone to finish fussing over the returned royals before he makes himself known. He approaches from the side, and is suddenly elated to see the Prince on his feet. ‘Your Highness, Your Majesty, I’m very glad that you’ve returned unharmed,’ he says in a small voice before bowing, doing his best to hold back more tears. He nearly gets knocked over when he rises by the force of Noctis slamming himself into his chest with an eager embrace that he returns automatically. They stay like that until they are forced to re-locate back into the palace, though Noctis refuses to let go of his hand. Ignis finds he doesn’t mind at all, unable to feel anything but happy they’ve been reunited.

 

 ______

 

Their happy reunion is short lived. Noctis spends a few days telling Ignis all about his trip, about his new friend Luna and everything they did together from making flower crowns to playing with her beloved dogs. However it doesn’t take long for him to retreat back into himself and become sullen and aloof. Ignis tries everything he can think of to bring back the bright smile he’d become so fond of, but nothing seems to work. As a last resort he sneaks into the kitchens late one night when everyone had left with a cookbook and a smaller notebook that held every detail the Prince could recount about an amazing dessert he had shared with Luna. His retelling of the story was the only time he had seen his friend smile in weeks, and Ignis figured that he could maybe make it happen again if he could recreate the confection.

The problem lies in the fact that he doesn’t know the first thing about baking. He picked a recipe that seemed the closest to what Noctis had described and decided to jump off from there, gathering all the required ingredients, plus a few additions, from the well-stocked kitchen before taking a deep breath and making his attempt. ‘ _This can’t be much harder than chemistry,”_ he thinks to himself as he starts measuring and pouring ingredients with firm determination. He finds out later that baking is much different, and messier than chemistry, as he ends up with half his attempt splattered all over himself, the counter, and the floor. When his pastries come out of the oven they’re hard as rocks and nearly inedible. He throws them away and spends the rest of the night cleaning up his mess so he can remain undiscovered and try again tomorrow.

It takes a solid week of attempts before he comes out with something tasty, and two weeks after that before he’s made something that fits the description of the dessert Noctis had loved. He piles everything on a plate and presents it to his friend the next morning, shyly explaining what he’d tried to do. Noctis’ eyes light up as he accepts the plate, eagerly chomping down on one of the sweets. He chews it for a long time, his face contemplative, before he swallows and says, ‘They’re not quite the same, but still really good! Thanks Iggy.’ Then he flashes that bright, beautiful smile Ignis had feared he would never see again. He vows to keep baking the desserts until he either gets it right or dies if it rewards him with that smile.

Another year passes and not much changes. The war is getting worse and the King has had to shrink back much of the Wall as he slowly but steadily loses his strength. Noctis begins combat training with Clarus’ son Gladiolus, and he tells Ignis every week how much he hates it as the older boy puts ice on his bruises and bandages on his small cuts. Ignis gives all the encouragement he can, but often wonders if the brutish trainer is being too hard on him. He keeps his worries to himself and focuses on his own training, which has come to include basic self-defense along with the usual difficult academics. His spare time gets divided between quiet study sessions with Noctis and experiments in the kitchen. His baking is greatly improving and he’s expanded into simple meals as well. The cooks don’t seem to mind him being in there after hours and a few of them even teach him a few techniques and praise his creations. Ignis isn’t sure if he actually likes cooking or not, but Noctis smiles at him every time he gives him something new to try (as long as it doesn’t have vegetables) so he keeps trying to improve.

At the end of summer one night, Ignis is shook awake once again. His mind quickly shifts from asleep to awake as he looks around in a panic for the messenger bringing more bad news and tears. He finds only Noctis, stunned silent by his reaction and looking extremely guilty. It isn’t an unusual occurrence for the Prince to visit him in the middle of the night, as he is often still plagued by nightmares, but he usually just crawls into his bed and clings to him as he falls back asleep. ‘Noct what is it?’ he asks, voice still heavy with sleep as he reaches for his glasses on the bedside table and gets a better view of the room.

‘Sorry, just…..I heard there’s a meteor shower tonight, I was wondering if you would come to the roof with me so we could watch it.’ Noctis shuffles back and forth on his feet with his head down, looking regretful and like he wants to run out of the room. Ignis glances over at his alarm clock; it’s absurdly late at night and there’s no way anyone would let them out. He pinches the bridge of his nose and tiredly flops back onto the pillows. ‘Noct it’s late, we can’t go out right now. I’m sorry,’ Noctis’ entire body drops and Ignis hears him start to sniffle. His heart breaks, and he gets out of bed to wrap his arms around his friend to sooth away his tears.

‘I-It’s just…..Luna talked a lot about the stars and how the Six watch over us from the night sky, and that meteor showers were their way of showing that they were still there. I just wanted to see it because it reminds me of her…’ Noctis was clinging to the loose shirt he wore to sleep and sniffling through his entire explanation. It was in this moment that Ignis knew he would never be able to deny him anything. He sighed and ran a hand through the Prince’s hair. ‘Go back to your room, dress warm and grab a blanket. I’ll meet you in the hallway.’ Noctis smiles wide at him and gives him a tight hug, ‘Thanks Iggy.’

Later Ignis puts all his lessons on stealth to use as he sneaks them past the guards and up onto the roof. He lays one blanket down on the ground, and wraps the other around their shoulders as they look up at the sky waiting for the shower to start. Ignis points out all the constellations he can remember, and tells Noctis of their history as the smaller boy contentedly leans on his shoulder. Noctis gasps when the first meteor blazes across the sky, followed by another, then another. He gazes up at the sky in amazement and awe with the biggest, brightest, smile Ignis has seen in almost two years. He’s then convinced that the shooting stars really are a gift from the Gods, despite astronomy lessons saying otherwise, because that smile can’t be described as anything but divine.

They’re found the next morning curled up together on the roof by a frantic King Regis. He scolds the boys, though there really isn’t any disappointment in his eyes. Ignis takes the brunt of the blame, though the King can probably tell that he’s lying when he claims that it was his idea to sneak out and watch the stars. His punishment is several long reports on the most boring books imaginable that will take days to complete, but when they return from the roof Noctis’ mood seems brighter and some of the childish sparkle has returned to his eyes.

 Ignis decides then that he will accept any punishment in the world to make Noctis happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hookay all, here we go. This is another warning that this is NOT a happy chapter and that it contains descriptions of child abuse, rape, and self-harm. I still hate myself for writing this.

When Ignis turns thirteen he receives a new, specialized tutor. He’s informed that this man will be handling all his academic lessons three times a week from this point forward and that he is one of the brightest minds in all of Lucis. Ignis is incredibly nervous when he awaits the man in the newly furnished study, unable to keep still as he paces around the room observing the numerous shelves of books, spacious wooden desk and comfortable leather reading couch. When the door finally opens Ignis forces himself to stand still with his hands clasped in front of him in a respectable stance.

The man who enters looks to be in his mid-thirties, with medium length dark hair and icy blue eyes. He smiles warmly at Ignis and introduces himself as Ashton Cromwell. Ignis recognizes the name from a few of the texts and papers he had been reading in his spare time. This man was highly regarded in the Citadel for his expertise on elemental magic and geology, and Ignis could hardly believe they were standing in the same room, let alone that he was going to be taught by such an intelligent and respected man.

Stumbling back to himself, Ignis bowed and introduced himself, saying what an honor it was to have him as a tutor. The man laughed and put a steady hand on his shoulder, telling him that there was no need to be so formal and that he was happy to have such a promising young pupil. Ignis smiled back at him, trying not to be too overcome by his own ego as the man steered him toward the desks and outlined his lesson plan for the next few months. It was going to be quite punishing from the sounds of it, and Ignis was looking forward to the challenge. They spent the first session on an overview of his previous curriculum with Ignis nervously recounting summaries of his lessons as his instructor listened carefully. He’s dismissed after several hours with an encouraging pat on the back and a bright, infectious, smile and he greatly looks forward to his first lesson.

Over the next few months Ignis is challenged on topic after topic, ranging from advanced elemancy to high level political strategy. The work is punishing and he spends many nights in his room practically pulling his hair out as he writes detailed reports on everything thrown at him. Mr. Cromwell is a strict teacher, but he is also warm and encouraging, often teasing him on his formalities and near-sighted dedication to his studies. They argue playfully as he tries to get Ignis to simply call him by his first name, with him eventually giving in. His tutor is also rather affectionate, free to give gentle touches to his arm or shoulder when he does something well. Ignis is uncomfortable with it at first, but over time finds himself craving the affection and praise from the man he is starting to see as a father figure.

Noctis has begun attending school, so Ignis sees less of him during the day. He hopes it will be an opportunity for the young Prince to make some new friends, but he remains sullen and reclusive. As they grow older he seems to have less and less in common with his friend. He has no time for video games or comic books and Ignis finds himself now incredibly reluctant to accept the punishments for getting caught sneaking around the palace now that he’s practically buried in books as it is. The only thing they seem to connect on anymore is his cooking, as Ignis tries time again to sneak vegetables into meals that Noctis will actually eat and continues to fail at recreating the elusive Tenebrae tart. He misses the days when he and the Prince could laugh easily together, but he always knew the time would come when their roles in life forced them apart.

He is happy to have a like mind in his mentor, however. The two of them have been known to spend hours after his lessons planted on the couch with cups of hot tea discussing thematic elements of obscure literature and the best methods to use when attempting to harness elemental energies. During these times his tutor is quick to flash him charismatic smiles and sits comfortably next to him with his arm draped around the back of the sofa, extremely close to his shoulders.

He is surprised one day about six months into their time together when Ashton starts asking probing questions about his personal life; is his family proud of him, does he have many friends, what does he do for fun, has he started dating? Ignis bows his head and is ashamed to admit that his personal life is rather dry. His only remaining family is one estranged uncle, Noctis is still his only real friend, his hobbies have been constrained to studying and cooking and he really hasn’t even thought about dating- not like he has the time anyway. His mentor seems saddened by his response and places an understanding hand on his thigh. He tells him that he’s always available if Ignis needs someone to talk to. Ignis smiles gently up at his mentor and thanks him earnestly, unconsciously leaning into the older man’s side. Ashton wraps an arm around his shoulders and holds him closer, and Ignis wonders if this is what it feels like to have a father.

 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

On the day he turns fourteen, Ashton gifts Ignis with an elaborate stationary set, complete with several fountain pens, various colored ink pots, and customized letter paper. Ignis is touched by the gift and gives his mentor a warm hug in thanks. He also gives Ignis the day off, asking him if he wants to go into town and see a movie. He rarely gets outside the palace and jumps at the chance, happy for the opportunity to spend the day just goofing off-with his teacher of all people.

The movie they see turns out to be rather terrible, and they spend time after at a nearby diner cracking jokes about the horrible dialog and gaping plot holes. Ignis honestly can’t remember the last time he felt this happy, and he tells his mentor as much on the way back to the palace. The man smiles at him and places his hand on Ignis’ thigh again, squeezing a little and leaving it there for the remainder of the drive.

It’s late when he returns to his room to find Noctis sleeping on the edge of his bed. He gently shakes him awake and is immediately assaulted with questions as to where he’s been all afternoon. As he explains himself his friend’s shoulders seem to slump and a twinge of sadness appears behind his eyes that Ignis doesn’t know what to make of. ‘I waited for you,’ he says simply after a long period of silence. ‘I wanted to give this to you,’ he gives Ignis a square package wrapped messily in plain brown paper. He opens it to find a detailed book about constellations and the legends behind them. He’s already read and reported on it more than once, but he doesn’t say anything about it to Noctis because he remembers the significance of the gift.

He pulls his friend into a hug and is a little startled when he quickly pulls away. ‘You smell weird,’ he declares, as if his nose has been seriously offended. He lifts his shirt to his face and inhales, discovering that he does indeed smell like Ashton’s cologne. ‘Sorry,’ is his only response as he crosses the room unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed. Noctis doesn’t respond as he sits sullenly on his mattress, seemingly unsure of what to do. ‘Are you sleeping in here tonight?’ Ignis asks, trying to snap him out of it. His friend just gives a heavy sigh and stands up, ‘Nah, I’ll crash on my own bed for a change.’ He sounds forcefully cheerful, but his body language betrays that he’s anything but. He bids Ignis goodnight with a flick of his wrist and walks out of the room, leaving the older boy stunned by the encounter. He’s still incredibly confused when he climbs into bed when for some reason he can’t help but to grab the shirt with the rubbed off cologne and nuzzle his face into it as he falls asleep, comforted by the scent.

Several more weeks pass uneventfully. Noctis has been mostly avoiding him since his birthday, not even expressing interest when Ignis brings him a new offering of Tenebrae tarts. His workload increases daily, and Ignis finds himself almost lost to stress and sadness. Ashton seems to notice the behavior change and offers hugs and gentle touches even more freely, which he accepts as his only lifeline. They are sitting on the couch one evening in silence with Ignis leaning against the older man’s chest while he rubs his arm up and down his back in a soothing motion when he is asked another strange question.

‘Ignis, do you like girls?’ he tenses and pulls away to grab his tea. ‘I….I haven’t thought about it much,’ he can feel himself blushing and he hates it. With everything going on romance is one of the last things on his mind and, if he’s being honest, girls even further from it. ‘Oh come on, you’re a teenager now. You can’t tell me you haven’t at least given it a little bit of thought,’ he pokes Ignis’ shoulder playfully and Ignis turns his head away. ‘Do you like boys then?’ He can feel himself blushing even harder and he keeps his head turned firmly in the other direction, refusing to meet the other man’s eyes.

‘Hey, come on, look at me. It’s ok, I’m not going to judge you,’ Ashton presses himself against his side and coaxes his head back the other way. Ignis keeps his face downward, still refusing to look at the other man. ‘W-Why do you want to know?’ he finally stammers out after several long moments of silence. ‘Because I care about you, Ignis. You’re so lonely and already drowning yourself in work and responsibility when you’re still so very young. It would be a shame for you to pass by the best years of your life without ever even knowing what a simple kiss can feel like.’

He feels a hand under his chin, gently forcing it upward. Ignis finally looks up to see Ashton smiling at him softly, his face now very close. He feels himself heating up and he licks his lips unconsciously, finding that his mouth has suddenly gone dry. He has the urge squirm away and run out the door, but something he can’t identify is keeping him pinned in place. ‘You do want to know what it feels like, don’t you?’ Ashton tips his chin up higher and lowers his head so his lips are level with his own. Ignis’ eyes widen and he can feel his heartbeat pick up inside his chest. His mind is racing and he can’t pin down a single thought to force out of his mouth. He wants to respond so he just nods once, cursing himself after the fact.

He doesn’t have long to think before the older man’s mouth descends on his own. His lips are chapped and a little rough, and he keeps his hand firm under his chin so Ignis can’t pull away. It feels wrong, and he’s really not sure why people like it. Unsure of what to do, Ignis presses back. He hopes this is the right thing to do to give Ashton what he wants so he can just go back to his room and scrub this moment from his brain. The older man finally pulls away, but keeps his face close, stroking Ignis’ chin gently with his thumb. ‘Did you like that?’ He didn’t, but he doesn’t want to hurt the other man’s feelings and once again loose the only person close enough to feel like family, so he nods again. ‘Good.’

Before he knows what’s happening Ignis finds himself forced back against the arm of the couch with the other man on top of him, mouth once again pressed against his own. The other man’s lips are moving against his almost hungrily, only stopping briefly to pull away for air before crashing down again. Ignis’ brain seems to have short circuited, and he finds himself unable to do anything but lie there as the man assaults his mouth and presses himself against his chest. Soon he moves from his mouth to trail kisses along his neck and suck gently at the delicate skin there. Ignis feels himself make an awkward noise that the other man seems to take as encouragement and he returns to his mouth, this time forcing his tongue inside. It’s wet and sloppy, and Ignis isn’t enjoying it at all. When he feels a hand trailing down his thigh and between his legs he finally is given back the brain power to force his head away to break the seal of their lips and gasp out, ‘Don’t!’

He stares at the other man breathlessly, afraid that he’s going to be angry, but he only adjusts his tie and looks at Ignis apologetically. ‘That was too soon, I’m sorry,’ he rubs Ignis’ arms softly as he looks away, forcing his gaze on anything but the other man. ‘Can I go now?’ he asks quietly after several long minutes of silence. ‘Of course,’ the other man says sadly and lets him up. Ignis quickly gathers his things and leaves the room, not even noticing when he starts running down the hallway back to his room.

He gets into his room and locks the door, chest heaving as he tries to figure out what exactly just happened. He feels dirty, and he can still taste the other man’s tongue inside his mouth. He brings his toothbrush with him into the shower and scrubs both his mouth and his body until he feels a little more like himself. Even after brushing his teeth three times he can’t get the taste out, so he sneaks his way down to the kitchens.

Whenever he hears people talk about coffee, it’s that it is bitter, and can be very overwhelming. He heaps grounds into the filter of the machine and turns it on, pouring himself a cup after it’s ready and chugging it immediately. He’s almost happy when the hot liquid burns his tongue and throat on the way down, and it really does taste as bad as he’s heard. He pours himself another cup anyway and goes back to his room, certain that sleep will probably be eluding him that night.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Ashton doesn’t bring up their time on the couch during their next session, or the one after that. Just when Ignis thinks that he could maybe just forget the whole thing he’s beckoned back onto the couch at the end of the third. He’s tempted to scream and storm out of the room, but for some reason he goes over anyway, this time sitting a comfortable distance away from the other man. ‘Ignis,’ he begins, ‘I apologize that I was so forward with you last weekend. Things should never be taken so far so fast and it was a great misstep on my part that I pushed the line. With your level of maturity, it’s incredibly easy to forget how young you still are, and I hope that same maturity will let you forgive my indiscretions.’

Ignis blinks and thinks to himself quietly. He isn’t really sure if he should forgive him or not, but he’s being looked at with such desperation and sincerity that his resolve caves and he bows his head forward. ‘I forgive you,’ he almost whispers, and he can’t help but be happy when he is beamed at in return. ‘I am very glad,’ Ashton responds, ‘I do hope our relationship can return to what it was. Is it alright if I hug you?’ Ignis nods his head, glad the worst is over and that things can get back to normal. They stay in the embrace for several minutes, and then spend several more just sitting together on the couch in comfortable silence. When he gets up to leave Ashton walks him to the door, ‘I’ll see you next week, Ignis,’ he says before bending down to place a simple kiss to his forehead like he has done for Noctis in the past. It makes him squirm a little, but he soon forces himself not to mind and returns to his room.

For a few weeks, things really do go back to normal. Though he’s disquieted a bit more than usual by his mentor’s casual touching, he doesn’t try anything further. Ignis is able to study, cook, and hang out with Noctis like nothing ever happened with Ashton. Then one Friday evening after lessons he’s asked back onto the couch. It’s been long enough that the thought no longer fills him with anxiety, and he complies without thinking. They talk for a little while about the latest books they’ve been reading for pleasure and Ignis is in the middle of explaining the horrible plot of a romance novel leant to him by Noctis’ trainer when he’s suddenly cut off by Ashton’s mouth on his again. He turns his face to the side quickly and tries to scoot away, though he gets trapped by an arm around his waist. ‘What are you doing?’ Ignis asks in a panic, still struggling to get away.

‘Listen Ignis, I’ve been as patient as I can waiting for you to come back to me, but you seem to be as stubborn with this as you are with everything else. I know you’re attracted to me and there’s no reason for either of us to fight it any longer, so just let go,’ he cups Ignis’ face with both his hands and kisses him again, giving Ignis a chance to break free. ‘I don’t want this!’ Ignis glares at him and tries to rise up from the couch, but is pushed back down by a strong arm against his chest.

‘If that’s the way it is, so be it. We’re going to treat this like another lesson. Follow my instruction and stop fighting me, or you will fail and I will tell the King that you are not fit to advise the Prince.’ Ignis froze in place, knowing he had been swiftly defeated. Ashton had played the Noctis card, the one thing that could always bring him to heel. ‘So, what do you say?’ Ashton is leaning in again, anticipating the answer before it’s even said. ‘I’ll do whatever you want,’ Ignis whispers, fighting tears. ‘Good boy, now kiss me.’ Ignis does.

At first it’s only kissing, every Friday after lessons Ashton pushes Ignis down onto the couch and attacks his mouth while the boy tries to clumsily follow along. He hates it when there’s tongue involved, but whenever he’s asked for entrance by a swipe or bite along his bottom lip he opens his mouth and wiggles his tongue alongside the invaders’. He hates the hand that sometimes snakes up to pet his hair and the way his glasses push uncomfortably against his nose. He hates the feeling of the other man’s bulging trousers against his leg, and most of all he hates the way his own body responds to kisses made at his throat, behind his ear, and later down his chest when Ashton gets adventurous. It usually doesn’t take long for the older man to start rutting against his leg, and Ignis just lies there until he finishes before he can fix himself and leave.

Then Ashton’s hand starts wandering lower, palming Ignis though his clothes as he grinds his own erection against the boy’s thigh. He hates the noises that force their way out of his throat, he hates the warm feeling in his groin as he nears completion, and he hates the sticky fluid that spills into his underwear. It always takes a very long shower and several cups of coffee before Ignis can function again afterward. He barely eats or sleeps, and leaves his room only to return to the kitchens for more coffee.

Noctis invites him to his room one Saturday to hang out, and Ignis reluctantly agrees. His friend is a bit confused when he takes a seat on the floor rather than the couch, but shrugs it off and the two sit together watching TV for a while before Noctis speaks up in a quiet voice. ‘Iggy, are you OK?’ he asks, ‘You’ve been acting kinda weird for a while.’ Ignis freezes from his spot on the floor, incredibly grateful that Noctis can’t see his face. ‘Weird how?’ he asks softly, taking a long drink from the thermos of coffee he now carries around everywhere.

 ‘I dunno…. you always look like you expect something to jump out at you from any corner, you’re constantly drinking that nasty coffee like it’s the only thing keeping you alive, and you stopped cooking and bringing desserts…’ Noctis trails off, realizing he’s starting to sound selfish when he’s trying to worry about his friend. Ignis bows his head and speaks softly as he confesses, ‘I’m very tired, Noctis. I haven’t been sleeping well for quite some time now.’ Noctis moves down to the floor and scoots closer to his friend to place his head on his shoulder; Ignis tries his best not to pull away from the contact and eventually leans his head over to meet his friend’s. ‘Maybe you should go see the doctor, they can give you medicine that helps you sleep. I have some too but I don’t like it.’ Noctis suggests, trying to be helpful. ‘That could very well be the solution until my schedule calms down, thank you, Noctis.’ Ignis yawns and leans back against the couch, wrapping an arm around Noctis’ shoulders comfortably to bring him along. They both try and focus on the TV, but soon fall asleep together in that semi-uncomfortable position and wake up with aching backs and necks. Still, it’s probably the best sleep Ignis has had in months.

Soon after that Ashton decides that he’s had enough of make-out sessions that end only in grinding through clothes. He has Ignis on the couch with his shirt all the way untucked and unbuttoned, hair messy and lips kiss-swollen. ‘You look so beautiful,’ the older man tells him as he trails kisses along his jawline, ‘I need to see all of you.’ Ignis whimpers as his pants are unbuttoned and pulled off his legs and Ashton looks at him like he’s some sort of dessert. Kisses are planted down his chest to the waistband of his underwear, then they are removed as well. He can’t help but to groan and arch his hips up when the other man takes him into his hand and rubs his palm along his length. He begins to stroke him and Ignis starts panting, soft groans are spilling from his mouth and he is deeply embarrassed- he’s barely ever done this to himself. It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling into Ashton’s hand, and he cringes as he watches him lick the sticky fluid off.

‘Your turn,’ the older man says with a grin and leans back on the couch. Ignis robotically climbs on top of him and unfastens his pants to take him into his hand. He has no idea what he’s doing, so Ashton instructs him until he has the other man panting and groaning as Ignis strokes him to completion as well. He’s not about to use his mouth to clean up, so he finds a tissue and wipes his hand off before dressing himself and leaving the room. Later in the bathroom he holds his hand under scalding hot water trying to clean it off, but he can still feel the sticky fluid clinging to it like some kind of disgusting film. He doesn’t want to touch anything with his filthy hand, so he finds a pair of black leather gloves that he wears in the winter and slides them on before climbing into bed fully dressed and curling into himself trying uselessly to fall asleep. No one comments when he continues to wear the gloves everywhere, chalking it up to some sort of teenage fashion statement.

The next week he walks down to the medical ward to request a meeting with a doctor. He tells him that the stress and pressure of his duty is leaving him unable to sleep. He has gotten very good at lying, and the doctor prescribes him with some low dose sleeping medication without a thought. He warns Ignis not to take more than instructed because the pills can become addictive. He doesn’t worry too hard about that; he’s sacrificed too much to waste his hard work on a drug addiction. When he returns to his room, pills in hand, he takes one immediately and gets back into bed. He finally sleeps peacefully for the rest of the weekend.

 _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

When Ignis turns fifteen he is offered a permanent seat on the War Council. They have been reading his reports and tracking his progress, and his sharp mind and keen attention to detail has greatly impressed the King and his advisors. He accepts without thought, greatly honored by the offer. Noctis seems sullen, however, as it means that Ignis will have even less time to spend with him.  Ignis gently reminds him that after a year, as long as he passes his exams, they will be spending a great deal of time together so he just has to be patient a little while longer. Noctis doesn’t say anything, but smiles at him softly knowing how hard his friend is working to become his advisor.

Ashton’s birthday gift to him is to make him strip down and lie back as he takes him into his mouth. Ignis doesn’t like the weird slurping sounds the other man makes as he sucks him like a popsicle until he releases down his throat. He absolutely hates it when he is open-mouth kissed and he can taste himself on the older man’s tongue. Thankfully he doesn’t make him do it back. Yet.

The best thing about having a seat on the council is that he has an excuse to cut his lessons short, or escape the room before an “after hours” session can begin. All the information on the meetings is classified, so as long as he doesn’t use the excuse too often he can sneak away both with and without something to do. He suspects Ashton has caught on after a few months, but there isn’t really anything he can do about it as long as he continues to excel at his lessons.

The sessions they do have become more heated however, and Ignis fights back the urge to vomit the first time Ashton reclines back on the couch, fully nude, and tells him to “put his pretty mouth to good use”. He coughs and gags around the length in his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the older man from forcing his head up and down until he can make his throat relax and accept it. He hates the taste of the spunk in his mouth and later has to drink three full thermoses of black coffee to wash it out.

Eventually Ignis teaches himself to block out the actions and put himself on autopilot during their time together. He goes through all the motions, but retreats into his head where he recites old poems, does complex mathematical equations and counts backwards in a dead language he learned for fun. This method helps him cope, and he’s able to return to kitchen to create new dishes to present to Noctis and goes back to stubbornly trying to recreate the Tenebrae tart. He’s able to be content, for the most part, constantly reminding himself that he only has to make it through a few more months before his extra-curricular lessons are a thing of the past.

He’s laying with Ashton on the couch one night when the other man lets it slip that the King has requested that he tutor Noctis through his high school years since he’s made so much progress with Ignis. His heart stops, and he has to fight down the bile that rises in his throat at the thought of Noctis being in this position. The next time he meets with the King, he drops the suggestion that Noctis attend a public school in order to better connect with his piers. He plants the idea in Noctis’ head as well, telling him that he would dislike being cooped up in the palace so much.

The next time he meets with Ashton he is pulled to the couch before the lesson even starts. He pins Ignis’ arms above his head and looks down at him with an angry glare. ‘I hear Prince Noctis has decided to attend public school next year,’ he growls, ‘you wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?’ Ignis tries his best to look contrite as he stares back up at the other man. ‘I did,’ he confesses, ‘I didn’t want anyone else to have you.’ He has gotten very good at lying indeed. The older man’s expression softens and he bends down to kiss him softly. ‘Don’t worry dear heart, I’m all yours,’ Ignis cheers internally at the victory as his body is ravaged by the other man. He is stripped and pulled into his lap and they rock together as he holds both their lengths in his hand. ‘ _This will never happen to you,’_ he promises to Noctis inside his head.

He turns sixteen without much fanfare. He occupies all his time studying for his upcoming exams, refusing to fail and let everything go to waste. His sleeping pills stop working, and the doctor allows him a stronger dose, warning him again on the dangers of overdoing it. He barely sees Noctis anymore, and when he is able to come around their time is spent in silence as they watch movies or TV. ‘ _Not much longer,_ ’ he tells himself every night after his scalding showers and oral regimen.

He’s unsurprised the night Ashton wraps his arms around him from behind as he stands to leave, pressing an erection into his backside. ‘You’re a man now, Ignis. It’s time to consummate our relationship, don’t you think?’ He nips on his ear and Ignis groans. He’s been mentally preparing himself for this moment for a long time, but that doesn’t stop the tears from prickling in the corner of his eyes when he’s stripped and forced onto his hands and knees on the couch and made to suck on the man’s fingers. He hates the way it feels as the first one is inserted; it hurts and feels too unnatural. It starts to burn when the second one is inside, and Ignis feels the tears starting to fall. ‘Hush love,’ Ashton says as he presses gentle kisses to his shoulders, ‘just relax and it will feel good, I promise.’ Ignis retreats into his mind as the fingers stretch him open, but he’s drawn back to reality when Ashton pushes himself inside.

The pain is greater than anything he’s ever known, and he continues to cry as it happens again and again. He really hates the way Ashton is whispering into his ear about how good it feels inside of him, he hates the sounds of skin slapping on skin and he hates the way it doesn’t feel good at all. His hips are grabbed so hard he’s sure it will leave bruises as his body is forced backward over and over until the older man bites down on his shoulder and spills himself inside of him.

Ignis flops bonelessly down on the couch and just lies there as Ashton gets dressed. He throws Ignis a dirty towel to clean himself off with, and Ignis hates how he didn’t even have the decency to use a condom. He rises on unsteady legs and limps back to his room, stripping without thought and going to the shower automatically. He scrubs himself until his skin is red and raw before curling into the corner of the shower wall and crying until the water is too cold for him to stand. Afterward he crawls into his pajamas and dry swallows a double dose of the sleeping medication before burying himself under his blankets and crying himself to sleep. He stays in bed the entire weekend undisturbed, and goes as far as to fake an illness to get him out of meetings and lessons for the following days. Noctis brings him soup and tells him to get better fast so they can cook together again, and Ignis manages to hold himself together until he leaves before he starts sobbing again.

He recovers from his “illness” in a few days and goes back to studying and attending meetings. If anyone notices his sullen mood or the red rims around his eyes they don’t say anything; Ignis figures it’s probably because they don’t care. However it doesn’t take long for him to be discovered by the one person that does care. ‘Specs you look terrible, you sure that you should be out of bed?’ Noctis corners him in the kitchen as he’s taking a fresh batch of Tenebrae tarts out of the oven. ‘Good evening to you too, Highness,’ he quips as he places the tray on top of the stove to cool.

 ‘Sorry, it’s just…..you seriously look like you haven’t slept in years,’ he moves over to grab one of the sweets off the tray, even if it is too hot to eat just yet. ‘My exams are in a month, I’ve been studying almost non-stop,’ he offers as explanation, hoping Noctis will drop the subject. ‘Just don’t kill yourself, it’d suck to have to find a replacement,’ he grins in jest before taking a bite of the tart and contemplating the flavor for a minute. ‘I don’t think there’s anyone else who could fail so many times at doing the same thing and still keep at it for whatever reasons you keep locked in that giant brain of yours.’ He knows deep down that Noctis doesn’t mean it, but he can’t stop his heart from falling or his brain from telling him that everything he’s doing is useless, because he’s just bound to keep failing in the end.

He takes a seat and presses his head down on the counter, hiding it with his arms. He’s far too worn out to cry, so he just stays like that until Noctis is alarmed. ‘Come on Iggy, I was just kidding,’ he moves over to place a gentle hand on his shoulder and Ignis leaps away from the counter like something was attacking him, knocking his stool over in the process. ‘Ignis what the hell is wrong with you?!’ Noctis is starting to get really worried, but Ignis just smooths his shirt down and acts like nothing happened. ‘I have to get back to work, I’ve spent too much time here,’ Ignis says angrily, walking out of the kitchen and leaving his friend in stunned silence.

He decides it’s best to avoid Noctis until he’s able to end his “lessons” with Ashton and put himself back together. The man is insatiable after their first time, and now he finds his actual studies canceled in favor of time spent on his knees or in his lap on the couch; or bent over the desk, the arm of the couch or the top of the small study table. Ignis doesn’t cry anymore. He zones out to the point where he doesn’t feel any pain at all, but he doesn’t feel any pleasure either. Even when Ashton strikes the spot that makes stars appear behind his eyes as he strokes him in his hand, it still never feels good. When people ask why he’s walking so strange, or what caused the bruising on his wrists he tells them that he’s begun combat training -which _is_ something he will start soon- and they leave it alone. He’s become very, very good at lying.

Ignis lays on top of Ashton the eve before his exams recovering as he gently strokes his hair. Ignis hates it, but he’s unable to move just yet so he lets it happen and heaves a heavy sigh. ‘Don’t worry love, you’ll pass your tests with flying colors, and become the best advisor Lucis has seen in the past five decades,’ Ignis doesn’t believe the encouragement, but accepts it with a fake smile anyway. ‘I’ll find a way to keep us together, I promise. There’s no way I would ever let you go, my love,’ He kisses his head and Ignis feels every sore muscle in his body tense. Finding sudden strength to stand, he dresses and runs into his shower with tears already streaming down his face. He feels sick and he wants to scream, every part of his body crying out as his brain repeats “ _there is no end_ ” over and over until he’s a useless lump on the bathroom floor. He stays that way until morning when he rises and gets himself ready for his first exam, trying his best not to look like the disheveled shell of a person he’s become.

 After three days of endless testing, he finally lets himself collapse on his bed and curl back into himself. At this point he really doesn’t care if he’s passed or not because it doesn’t mean anything. The torture won’t end, just take new form until he’s too broken to fight back. He almost wishes that he fails. He thinks of Noctis and hates himself for feeling that way. He stays in bed for the next two days before being summoned to the throne room for the results. 

King Regis nods at him as he enters the room, surrounded by palace staff and council members. He feels a little nervous, but walks with his back straight and his head high to bow before the King, the formality being almost second nature at this point. He stands with his back straight and his hands clasped at his front and awaits the decision with the stoic expression he’s perfected over the years.

‘Ignis Scientia, you came to the palace at the age of five to begin training for the honor of becoming my son’s most trusted advisor. After ten years of intensive schooling your exam results reveal…..that you are indeed the most promising young man to try for the position in quite some time. The position is yours, should you accept.’ The King smiles at him and Ignis feels pride swell in his chest for the first time in many years. ‘It is my honor, Your Majesty,’ Ignis recites and bows once again, finally feeling tears that aren’t born out of sorrow prickling at his eyes. ‘Very well, in one week’s time you will be sworn into service of the crown. Until that time you are freed of responsibility to do as you please. You have certainly earned it.’

 Ignis is dismissed from the throne room and he walks back to his quarters with a huge, genuine smile on his face. He wants to change out of his stuffy formal attire and go find Noctis so they can celebrate; he can worry about everything else later. His mood is shattered when he finds Ashton standing outside his door with a bottle of champagne and the bright smile he’s come to despise. ‘I told you that you would do splendidly,’ he praises as he pulls Ignis to his chest for a hug. ‘I figured it would be fitting to retire to your quarters for a special celebration,’ there is no way Ignis will be able to stand having the older man in his room. It’s been his safe haven from all the torment almost his entire life, and he won’t have it defiled.

‘I’m supposed to meet Noctis,’ he says firmly, trying to brush past the other man. If he can just get inside he’ll be safe, but he’s caught around the waist and slammed back against his door. ‘I guess we’ll just settle for a quickie here in the hallway. I never knew you to be one for voyeurism, Ignis.’ He tries to protest but it catches in his throat when a hand is suddenly stuffed down his pants. ‘You did so well Ignis you deserve a reward,’ Ashton whispers as he licks and sucks around his neck. ‘Tell me what you want baby, you get anything tonight,’ the button on his pants is popped and the other man begins stroking in earnest. Ignis feels his head going fuzzy, but comes back to his senses when he hears footsteps down the hall. ‘Get off!’ he demands, ‘there’s someone coming.’

His words are ignored and his mouth is captured in a fierce kiss that silences further protest. Ignis stills, he would know those shuffling footsteps anywhere. He squirms and fights but it’s too late, Noctis has seen everything. He stops and stares for only a few moments in shock before taking off in the opposite direction.  ‘What a coincidence. If you had just let me inside we could have kept the young Prince from seeing you so….on display. Now, are you going to let me inside or am I going to have to fuck you in the hallway like a whore?’ Ignis is flooded with an emotion he’s never quite experienced, finally something that’s not sorrow, or lethargy, or complacence; it’s rage.

‘Get off me,’ he warns in a voice that he doesn’t recognize as his own. ‘Or you’ll do what exactly?’ Ashton mocks, leaning his face in closer. Without warning Ignis bashes his head into the other’s causing him to stumble backward a bit. He then brings a knee up to collide with the other man’s groin and then forces his palm under his nose and thrusts upward until he hears a sickening, satisfying crack. He then takes off running down the hall after Noctis, pausing only to fix his pants and ignoring the throbbing pain in his head and the blood pouring down his face from the gash caused by the headbutt.

Ignis finds Noctis on the roof, leaning off one of the edges. He bends over to catch his breath and finds instantly that it was a mistake, as his vison starts to blur a bit and he feels himself getting dizzy. He ignores everything and calls out to Noctis, who won’t even look at him. ‘So that’s why you stopped coming around? Why you spent all your free time “Studying” and were too busy for me anymore? Did you fuck your tutor for better grades so you could gain a position of power? Am I nothing to you but something to elevate yourself with?’ Ignis can hear Noct’s voice breaking and it shatters him to pieces. Where would such ideas even get planted in his head? ‘Noct…’ he says weakly, unable to even form words as he staggers over to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, which is immediately shrugged off. Noctis still won’t look at him and his voice breaks again when he says, ‘Don’t. Just save the stupid explanation Ignis, I really don’t care. You can be my advisor or whatever, but you’re not my friend.’ He pushes away from the ledge and walks back to the elevator without sparing him a passing glance. Ignis falls to his knees and just sits there for an inordinate amount of time before he kicks into autopilot and forces himself to go back to his room.

There is no sign of Ashton, and Ignis feels a small twinge of satisfaction when he spots the drops of blood on the floor leading away from his room. He strips down to get in the shower like he does after every encounter with Ashton, but doesn’t scrub himself. He simply stands there watching the blood from his head wound flow down the drain until the water gets cold and he steps out. He looks at himself in the mirror for the first time in ages, and he automatically agrees with Noctis that he does look terrible. There are deep black rings under his eyes and his face looks sunken and hollow. He moves his head to reveal the bruises that pepper his neck and shoulders that are usually covered by shirt collars. He looks down at his body to find it far too thin, almost frail, and there are more dark bruises on his hips, thighs and abdomen.

‘ _You’re not my friend,’_ the words echo in his mind over and over and he almost has to laugh at the bitter irony of losing his friend on the same day he passed through the grueling process of bringing them closer together. He opens the medicine cabinet and takes out the bottle of sleeping pills, desperate to just sleep for a week, a year, maybe even forever. He doesn’t know how many pills he pours into his hand or how many it would even take to just end his suffering for good.

Usually thinking of Noctis is enough to banish these thoughts from his mind, but now Ignis has lost him and there’s nothing left for him anywhere. He stares at the handful of pills in his hand and shoves them into his mouth without a second thought, washing them down with water from the sink. He walks into the room and pulls on underwear and a random shirt, thinking it would be improper to be found later fully nude on his bathroom floor.

He burrows under the covers of his bed, like he has so many times in the past years, and cries himself to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn. Who else needs a fuzzy blanket and a hug? Sorry to end on a cliffhanger, but the chapter became a monster as it is and there's still a ways to go before the end. The last part will be up soon, I won't keep you waiting long. Thanks for reading this angst-fest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this chapter doesn't hurt quite as bad, but it still gets pretty heavy. No more warnings though.

Ignis wakes up in the medical ward some time later to find King Regis beside him clutching his hand like he had done with Noctis so many years ago. His head is throbbing, his throat feels scratchy, his abdomen aches and his vision is blurrier than it usually is without his glasses, and he has to rub his eyes with his free hand to make sure he’s not just hallucinating the King by his side. Regis smiles with relief and holds his hand tighter, ‘Ignis, thank the Gods you’re awake, you scared me half to death, son.’

Ignis isn’t sure if he should be glad that he woke up or not; the thought of eternal rest had been so enticing. ‘How long have I been here?’ he asks, voice dry and raspy. ‘Two days,’ Regis replied. ‘One of the kitchen staff found you in your room the morning after you were given your exam results. She went up to bring you some coffee when you didn’t come down yourself and she nearly had a heart attack when she found that you wouldn’t wake up. They pumped your stomach, but there was great concern that you might slip into a coma. The doctors said if you hadn’t had a tolerance to those sleeping pills you would have died.’

Well, that explained most of the discomfort he felt. It didn’t explain, however, why the King of Lucis was sitting at his bedside. It really didn’t take long for him to connect the dots- he didn’t have any family, so Regis was the default medical contact as his guardian until he turned eighteen. That meant they had shared the results of any examinations conducted without his permission. It meant he probably knew everything.

‘I’m not going to ask you why you did it, because I do believe that I have some idea. However I do need confirmation from you before I proceed with anything. Ignis, they found the bruising all over your body along with some extensive….internal damage. I need to know if this happened with your permission,’ Regis looks like years have been cut off his life as he questions him, and Ignis can’t stand to look the man in the eye. He bows his head and shakes it gently, finally confessing his torment with the motion.

Regis’ hands ball into fists and the anger becomes evident in the red flash of his eyes and deep tone of his voice. ‘Your tutor came to me the night you were accepted and regaled me with a story of how you cheated on the exams, and then assaulted him when he threatened to expose you. I’m assuming he’s the culprit?’ Tears prick the edges of Ignis’ eyes as he nods his head. He honestly doesn’t know how he even had any left.

‘How long?’ Regis asks. Ignis is terrified but there’s no turning back now that his shame has been brought to light. ‘Two years,’ he answers softly, still looking away from the King. His eyes flash red again before he takes a calming breath and softens his voice, ‘Son, why didn’t you _tell_ anyone?’ Ignis nervously wrings his hands together, something that proves difficult with the needle jabbed into his vein, and he realizes this is one of the only times he has been without his gloves outside of the shower and the study for years. He feels even more naked and uncomfortable, but he steels his voice and recites the information like an oral report.

‘He told me that if I didn’t let him do it that he would fail me, and ensure that I no longer had a place at the palace. He also later expressed interest in having Noctis as a student, so I……kept him distracted until the Prince was formally enrolled in school. I apologize for my sinful adultery, Your Majesty, I understand if you wish to revoke my acceptance, though I assure you that all the work presented was genuine, and I have never been given passing grades in exchange for…favors,’ Ignis feels like the wind has been knocked out of him as he finishes.

His chest heaves with the exertion of forcing everything out with a steady voice, and he feels tears silently running down his cheeks. He wishes that he could just stop crying altogether, so sick of the feeling of salty dampness on the side of his face. He can feel the last of his defenses crumbling as he awaits the King’s judgement, and is very startled when Regis takes his hand again and cradles it to his chest.

‘Oh Ignis,’ he says sadly, bringing his hand up to his face where Ignis can feel tears there as well. The King is crying for _him_ and Ignis doesn’t know how to process it. They stay that way for a long time, both quietly grieving before a doctor walks in to check on him and Regis lets go of his hand. The doctor delicately checks his vitals with Ignis flinching every time he’s touched and asks how he’s feeling. He feels like he wants to walk out into the desert where his tears won’t fall and stay there until he’s nothing but Voretooth meat, but he doesn’t say any of that out loud. Instead he says he’s doing fine and politely asks for some water. 

The King rises from his chair slowly when the doctor leaves still sadly regarding him. There were several things he was expecting upon his confession and pity was _not_ one of them. He doesn’t know how to handle it and the gaze makes him squirm. Why does the King care? What has he done to deserve the grief of the most powerful man in the lands on his behalf?

‘There are some matters I need to attend to regarding the status of Mr. Cromwell in the palace. I can’t take away what’s already happened, but I can assure you that he will NEVER, EVER get near enough to hurt you again,’ There’s anger in the King’s voice, but it’s also laced with something like…..love. Reality hits Ignis like an ancient history tome to the face when he realizes how wrong he’s been with the assumption that he was without a family. 

The King grabs his hand again and asks Ignis to look him in eye, which is incredibly difficult, but he manages somehow. He sees Regis looking at him the same way he sometimes looks at Noctis; like a protective father. ‘Ignis, I know this is hard, but I need you know that none of this is your fault. Please don’t blame yourself for that….. _traitor’s_ actions. I’m not revoking anything, unless you wish to leave, and your ceremony can be postponed as long as it takes for you to be well again. I am convinced now more than I ever will be that there is no person on this planet who could be more fit to stand at Noctis’ side. You have endured the worst hell imaginable for his sake, and I can only hope that he will one day realize the scope of how deeply you care for him and give you the hard-earned respect you deserve.’

Ignis flushes and turns his head away, the mantra of Noctis’ last words to him repeating in his head. ‘ _You’re not my friend_.’ He sobs and the King holds his hand tighter until he can find words again. ‘Noctis hates me now,’ he breathes, voice barely a whisper, ‘He saw Ashton…..Mr. Cromwell… and I…doing things, and he’s now convinced I’m only seeking elevation in my own status. He wouldn’t even look at me….’ His voice trails off and he falls into silence once again. ‘I’ll talk to him,’ Regis says softly.  

The King puts his hand down and brushes hair off his face gently before kissing his forehead; it’s the only thing Ignis hasn’t flinched away from in weeks. Before he can leave the room Ignis requests that he tell the doctors that he doesn’t want any visitors except himself. He’s terrified of both being somehow assaulted by Ashton, and letting Noctis see him in this broken state. He just wants to sleep, so he throws himself back onto the bed and shuts his eyes, desperately trying to fight the darkness lurking in his own mind.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Regis exits the hospital room feeling more drained than he has in years. Clarus waits outside the door, stalwart as always, and lets the King compose himself for a few moments. ‘How is he?’ he asks gruffly. ‘Alive and awake,’ Regis answers, not trusting the truth to anything further. ‘Gods Clarus the things he went through. Abused for _years_ under our own noses. I can’t even begin to imagine the things that monster did to him….How am I supposed to live with this?’

Horror briefly flashes on Clarus’ face before his features are schooled back to his neutral expression, ‘You do your duty as King, and put that jackass where he belongs.’ Regis gives a firm nod and they both walk back to the throne room, pausing only for a moment to have Cromwell summoned for a hearing. He gathers members of the counsel to oversee the hearing, only briefly explaining the reason for it.  They wait for an hour in silence before the man enters, and Regis fights with everything he has not to plunge his sword straight through his heart.

The man clearly has no idea what he’s getting into as he bows and stands before the King looking as smug as he can with a broken nose. ‘Mr. Cromwell, you stand before us with a bold accusation. The council will now hear your claims and deliberate a verdict,’ the Kings hands are clutching the sides of the throne with rage, the only thing betraying his anger. The hearing is only for protocol purposes, and it pains him to let this snake of a man try and cover his crimes.

Cromwell clears his throat and begins his lie. ‘Your Majesty, it is with great sorrow that I inform you that my pupil, Ignis Scientia, recently chosen advisor to the Prince, has been lying to you all for quite some time. I have recently come across evidence that he has been forging several of his papers and somehow managed to obtain copies of the testing material in advance so he could copy answers. I discovered this evidence in his room when he invited me over to celebrate his new position and when I approached him about it, he assaulted me.’ He finishes his rehearsed speech trying to look ashamed and sad at the turn of events, but the King can see the smug glint still in his eyes.

‘I have spoken with Mr. Scientia, who is currently hospitalized and unable to attend the hearing. As his Guardian I have authority to speak for him on this matter…’ he is interrupted before he can continue by Cromwell, who now seems a little less composed with the knowledge Ignis is in the hospital, undoubtedly because there’s no hiding the evidence of his actions there.’ Your Majesty, if I may, perhaps it’s best this meeting wait until Mr. Scientia has recovered enough to stand for himself.’

‘ _Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you, bastard. It’d give you a chance to intimidate him into silence to try and save your sorry ass,’_ Regis thinks to himself as he glares down at Mr. Cromwell. ‘I believe my own judgment serves best here,’ the King says flatly, daring the man to argue. He just bows his head and gestures that they proceed. ‘As I was saying, I have brought the accusation to Mr. Scientia, and he counters that you have been demanding sexual favors from him under threat of you falsifying evidence to prevent his advancement to the advisor position. I have looked over both your evidence and the footage from the security camera in the hallway outside Mr. Scientia’s door and presented it to the council. It has been decided after careful deliberation that you, Ashton Cromwell, be branded as a traitor to the crown for the crimes of rape, child abuse, and forgery and be banished from the Kingdom for the rest of your life. Clarus, if you would.’

The brutish bodyguard happily forces Cromwell to his knees and cuffs his hands behind his back as he stammers and tries to argue. When they get into the holding area Clarus can’t resist forcing the man against the wall and driving a solid elbow into his stomach. ‘You sick fuck, forcing yourself on a kid like that. You’re lucky castration was outlawed as a punishment,’ Clarus drives his knee into Cromwell’s groin to make his point and stands glaring down at him waiting for the man to answer. ‘He wanted it. He always wanted it, I just moved it along because he was too much of a little chickenshit to do it himself,’ Cromwell coughs out and Clarus punches him square in the face, knocking him out and probably re-breaking his nose.  He spits down on him and leaves him there, wishing he could break him more.

Outside the cell Regis waits with a knowing smile on his face. ‘How’d it feel?’ he asks. Clarus smirks and answers, ‘fantastic’. ‘Would that I could have done it myself….’ Regis trails off, though he knows there is nothing he could do to the man to repair the damage he’s done to the fragile boy so close to his heart. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Clarus, I need to talk to my son,’ Regis pauses for a moment and says in a quieter voice, ‘You should talk to your children as well. I don’t think I could ever handle this again in my lifetime.’ Clarus bows his head, and his expression saddens, ‘I don’t think I have to worry too much about Gladio, but Iris….’ Pain flashes behind his eyes at the thought of his own children enduring that kind of torment. ‘I don’t know how the kid did it,’ he whispers. Regis puts a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, ‘Force of love can endure any hardship.’  

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Regis takes a deep breath and knocks on the door to his son’s room. He hears the easy shout of “Yeah, come in” over the noise of some sort of game and it warms his heart that Noctis, at least, still holds pieces of his childhood. Noctis seems stunned when he walks in the room. ‘Dad!’ he shouts, pausing the game and rising off the couch to meet his father. ‘Is something wrong?’ he asks when he sees the King’s expression, and the deep sadness in his eyes. His father grabs him into a fierce hug that is almost crushing and Noctis thinks he feels him crying, but chalks it up to imagination. He’s still afraid of what’s happening when his father says, ‘Sit down with me son, I need to talk to you.’ He shuts the TV off and sits on the couch next to his father who grabs his hand and holds it gently.

‘Noctis, I’m afraid to tell you that Ignis is in the hospital. He took a few too many sleeping pills and almost slipped into a coma, but he’s awake now and it looks he will be physically fine in another day or so.’ Regis watches as Noctis’ face flashes with several emotions and he only utters a startled, ‘ _what!?!’_ He’s not stupid, and that’s a vast understatement for Ignis, so he knows automatically that the overdose was no accident. ‘What else?’ Noctis asks, knowing there is more to this judging by his father’s mannerisms.

‘Ignis told me that you caught him and tutor engaged in some….elicit actions the other night and said some harsh words to him regarding his intentions as your advisor. Would you please tell me where you ever got the idea that Ignis was working only for personal gain?’ Regis asks him a little harshly and Noctis bows his head in shame. ‘I-It’s just……I hear people talk all the time when they don’t know I’m around. They were saying things about strange marks on Iggy’s neck and hands and how he acted kind of…weird around other people, and only seemed to spend time with that Cromwell guy. They said things about how he would leave the study way after his lessons were supposed to be over with his hair and clothes all messed up. They….they said that Ignis was probably sleeping with the guy for better grades since the advisor position is pretty important, I guess….’

Noctis sighed deeply before continuing when his father didn’t say anything in return. ‘And, well….Iggy never wanted to hang out anymore. He was always holed up in his room buried in books and was really snappy and cold whenever he was around. I didn’t want to believe anything people were saying, but it started to seem like he only wanted the job and didn’t care about me anymore. When I saw him with the guy I just, snapped….cause it seemed like everything was true after all.’ Noctis gave another sad sigh and Regis pulled him closer, holding him for a few moments before responding.

‘First off, I want you to know that Ignis cares for you a great deal, Noctis. His love for you is only rivaled by my own,’ Regis pauses to collect himself before continuing. ‘What you witnessed in the hallway was an act of power abuse by a terrible man, Noct. Ignis didn’t want to do those things with him, but he was told that he would be failed and taken away from you if he didn’t. He endured a great deal of pain for an impossibly long time, and his strange behavior was a result of the torment.’

Noctis’ mouth hangs open in shock, and his eyes well with tears as the weight of the information sets in. It takes a long time before he can speak. ‘So…the whole time…that guy was making him….Dad he was kissing him…a-and touching him….and….. Gods I knew something was wrong but…..Dad I told him he wasn’t my friend….and then the pills…It’s all my fault,’ Noctis finally breaks down and starts sobbing into his father’s chest. Regis wraps his arms around his son and rocks him steadily, comforting him and petting his hair until he settles.

‘Noctis, it’s not your fault; don’t you ever think that. The blame for all of this lies solely on the man who committed the crime,’ Regis’ voice is firm and laced with anger at the man who hurt his family so deeply. ‘But dad I’m his _friend_ ,’ Noctis wails, ‘I knew something was wrong but I never told anyone. I could have stopped it, but instead I made him almost _kill himself_!’ He buries himself into his father’s side as guilty sobs again rake through him. Regis rubs his back and speaks so softly he almost doesn’t hear it, ‘Noctis you’re still a child, there was no way for you to fathom what was going on at the time. If there’s anyone else at fault, it’s all the adults who noticed as well and only spent time gossiping instead of seeking the truth. There is a hard lesson in these events, and I can only hope everyone involved learns something for the future.’

Regis waits until Noctis calms down again before pulling away to look him in the eye. ‘Noctis, I want you to listen to me very carefully. If _anyone_ ever tries to touch you like that or make you do something that you’re uncomfortable with, you are to fight and run away. Most of all, if something is bothering you, and you start to feel hopeless, I always want you to talk to someone. You are always surrounded by people who love you, and would do anything to protect you. What happened to Ignis is something no child, or any person for that matter, should have to endure and I want you to promise me that you will never intentionally harm yourself for any reason. Can you do that for me, son?’

‘Yeah dad,’ Noctis gulps, ‘I promise.’ Regis pulls him into another hug until he feels Noctis yawning against him. ‘You should get some rest son, it’s been a hard day, for everyone,’ Noctis just nods and lets Regis lead him to the bedroom and tuck him under the covers like when he was small. ‘Dad?’ he asks in a tiny voice, ‘Is Iggy gonna be ok?’  Regis pets his son’s hair and smiles down at him sadly, ‘Only time will tell, Noct, but Ignis is stronger than perhaps any person I’ve ever met, so I believe the chances are high.’ Noctis nods and burrows into the pillows, ‘so what did you do about the guy?’ Regis’ voice gets low as he mutters, ‘I gave him a black brand and kicked him out of the Kingdom.’

Noctis doesn’t pay much attention to politics, but he knows what a black brand is. It’s a fate probably worse than a death sentence or a life in prison. In prison, at least you’re fed and sheltered, but a person with a black brand is an exile to everyone they meet and it’s nearly impossible to find work or shelter. It doesn’t help that the mark is imbued with a special magic that makes it burn unbearably the longer it’s covered by any sort of cloth, so there’s no way to ever hide it. It’s reserved only for people who commit the most heinous of crimes, and Noctis thinks it’s both ruthless and absolutely fitting. ‘I hope you punched him too,’ Noctis says darkly into the pillow. Regis smiles, ‘Now Noct, you know I can’t do that. Violence from the King against a subject is unbecoming, and something you’ll have to grow out of.’ Noctis groans and throws a blanket over his head. Regis smirks as he gets up to leave the room, ‘Besides,’ he says from the doorway, ‘I have Clarus to do it for me.’ Noctis peeks up at him and he laughs gently, ‘Goodnight son.’

He can’t tell him to sleep well, because he knows that it’s going to be impossible for all of them.

 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ignis is discharged from the hospital the next day, and is assigned a caretaker to start checking up on him daily, along with leaving her in charge of his sleeping medication since he really can’t rest anymore without it. He is also told that it’s best he undergo psychiatric evaluation for the sake of his health. He hates it but schedules an appointment anyway, figuring it’s the least of the things he’s had to force himself to do.  

He gets back to his room and once again stands in the shower until the water runs cold, before curling into bed. He was informed by the King on what happened to Ashton, and he wishes he could gain satisfaction or solace from his terrible punishment, but all he feels is tired. He waits in bed until the new attendant brings him food and his pills, insisting that he eat before taking them. He nibbles until he’s no longer able to stomach it, and she finally relents and lets him rest.

He stays in bed for the next three days, only disturbed by the caretaker. He knows he has to talk to Noctis, but can’t find the strength to face him and be rejected again now that his friend knows how broken and dirty he is. He has to rush into the shower whenever it crosses his mind, and he wonders how much of his skin he will have to scrub off before the filth of Ashton’s touch is washed away.

The medication they give him doesn’t work very well, enabling him to fall asleep but not stay asleep, and he starts himself awake at the slightest noise. He knows he can’t push it by saying anything, however, so he lets himself be satisfied with the dreamless sleep he does get and deals with the nightmares or restless silence otherwise. He’s awake when his bedroom door creeks open late on the third night and Ignis panics, thinking impossibly that Ashton has come back for him.

‘Iggy, are you awake?’ a small, broken voice asks from the doorway. Ignis forces his heart to stop racing before answering, ‘Yeah Noct, I’m awake.’ He’s almost always awake now. ‘C-can I come in?’ he asks softly, sounding so unsure of himself. It will always hurt him to hear Noctis in distress, so he calls out, ‘Of course you can.’ Noctis slowly steps inside and shuts the door, taking his time as he makes his way to the edge of the bed and sits down, and Ignis is reminded of the time they shared this exact moment under different circumstance. Just maybe, some things can go back to normal after all, he thinks.

It’s quiet for a long time, neither of them having any idea what to say to the other. Noctis starts and fails a few times, and Ignis just pulls his blanket up to shield himself from what’s coming and listens, waiting for a cue from his former friend. ‘Iggy…..’ Noctis breaths out, ‘I-I’m sorry.’  ‘For what?’ Ignis asks, a little bitter. ‘Man, I knew you were going to make this hard….I’m sorry for yelling at you, for being selfish, for not noticing how much you were hurting, and for being the worst friend ever.’ Noct’s voice cracks near the end of his tirade and he shoves his palms into his eyes to keep from crying.

‘You’re not the worst friend ever,’ Ignis answers softly, slowly sitting up. ‘If you were, you wouldn’t mean everything to me.’ Noctis turns his head away and slumps his shoulders with a sad sigh, ‘I don’t deserve you as a friend, Iggy.’ ‘Do you mean it?’ Ignis asks after a while. ‘Mean what?’ Noctis wonders, confused. ‘That I’m your friend,’ he answers sadly. ‘Of course you are Iggy, I’m so sorry,’ now Noctis cries. He shakes and sobs until Ignis wraps his arms around him from behind and holds him until he stops.

‘I’m so terrible at this,’ Noctis sniffles, ‘I’m supposed to be the one doing this for you right now.’ Ignis laughs softly and holds him tighter, ‘It’s just my duty, Noctis.’ ‘What is?’ Noct grumbles into his chest. ‘Caring for you. Always.’ Ignis strokes his hair as both of them cry now. His attendant finds them the next morning curled into each other’s arms sleeping soundly. She leaves the tray on a table and shuts the door.

The next few weeks pass by slowly. Ignis spends nearly all of his time with Noctis laying around comfortably, doing nothing. He manages to convince the psychiatrist that he’s not crazy and that he’s not going to do anything further to harm himself. He has his purpose back, and that’s enough to keep him motivated. He’s asked if he wants to talk about his experience and he declines. That part of his life is now sealed away inside a box in the corner of his mind and he has no intentions of ever opening it again. The staff and War Council members tip-toe around him when he returns to work, no longer judging him with resentful eyes. Ignis shrugs it all to the side and focuses on his tasks with the same determination and sharp wit he’s come to be known for. It won’t do him any good to stay broken.

A month after his hospital stay, he tells the King that he’s ready to take his oath. Regis asks him if he’s sure and he grins and responds with “Absolutely”.  Two days later he’s on one knee pledging his life to the crown and to Noctis. The ring of the Lucii binds Noctis’ magic to his body and a life-long bond between them is forged. He can feel the magic buzzing under his skin, and it’s the proudest moment of his life.

Later on he meets with Gladiolus, the first member of Noct’s Crownsguard, to begin combat training. He’s met on the first day with a warm smile and welcome greeting. They’ve interacted before, mostly to share novels (Gladio had very strange tastes in books) and talk about Noctis’ progress. ‘Ready to start?’ Gladio asks. ‘As I’ll ever be,’ Ignis responds with a smirk. Gladio laughs and attempts to clap him on the shoulder, but Ignis flinches away. The hulking boy’s face falls and he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. ‘Sorry,’ Ignis says, looking down at the floor. He figures it will be some time before he can stand the touch of anyone that’s not Noctis or the King.

‘Listen…uh….My dad gave me a rundown about what happened and….God I suck at this….It’s just, training can get a little physical, ya know, and it’s ok to tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable or anything.’ He shuffles his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the personal conversation. ‘Thank you,’ Ignis says with a smile. ‘Though I don’t expect you to hold back unless told otherwise,’ he says, taking a defensive stance with his chosen weapon. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Gladio responds with a grin, and they begin.

 Later that year Noctis both starts school and manages to convince his father to let him move out of the palace, the only covenant being that he let Ignis be his caretaker. Noctis has no problems agreeing to that, and Ignis finds himself forced into the roles of personal chef, housecleaner, tutor, chauffeur and “resident nag” as Noctis puts it. He also finally makes a friend, and the flailing ball of wild blonde energy called Prompto is soon a regular fixture in the apartment. He likes the blonde, for the most part, though he’s very loud and is constantly making side comments about his acquired quirks. After some time he’s no longer bothered by the random affections the boy freely throws around and responds with sarcasm whenever he’s asked why he wears gloves everywhere, why he’s constantly drinking coffee, or why he bluntly refuses to sit on the couch. It’s taken a very long time, but Ignis is finally genuinely happy.

A year later Ignis turns eighteen. The other three want to throw a party, but he insists on a quiet affair in the apartment. He laughs when presented with a disastrous mess dubbed as cake and Noctis and Prompto pretend to be offended. Gladio hands him a beer and they toast to making it though another year, ignoring the whines of the two younger boys. They then decide to hold a tournament of King’s Knight, declaring Ignis the judge since he adamantly refuses to get sucked into the addicting phone game.

Later when Gladio and Prompto have left Ignis pulls a bag containing his latest attempt at the Tenebrae tart from his things and passes it to Noctis, who quirks an eyebrow at him. ‘You made me food on _your_ birthday? You’re so weird, Specs.’ Ignis just smiles to himself as he cleans up, ‘I live to serve, Highness.’ ‘Getting closer,’ Noctis comments from on top of the counter, happily munching on the dessert. ‘Hey Iggy,’ he says softly, getting down and moving to where he could pull his friend into a hug, ‘thank you.’ ‘For what?’ Ignis asks. Noctis smiles up at him, ‘For always doing your duty.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That got sappy super quick, but I guess based on the comments it was kinda needed. It wasn't my intention so turn this fic into a PSA, but it went there and I'm not sorry. Listen to Regis people, his advice is important! Ok I'm done.


End file.
